Cowboy Cassanova
by moviefanatic17
Summary: Just a little oneshot of Kensi's first undercover mission. Songfic-ish, G/Kensi


**Hey, first off, I know I misspelled Kensi's name in the entire last story. I fixed it for this one. Second off, this idea was another one of those random things that pop into my head when I least expect it...the song is Cowboy Cassanova by Carrie Underwood. Thanks for the reviews for the last story, too. They're always fun to read. **

**I do own them...easy, CBS, I'm kidding. Calm yourself. **

**I DONT own them. There, its spelled out for you nice and clear. **

**Jeeze. **

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My mission is clear as I walk up to the old bar right in downtown L.A., silently pep-talking myself. It's oddly quiet out tonight, which is an advantage in keeping my focus. I pause for a moment with my hand on the doorknob and fidget with the wardrobe they've given me. This is it. Make or break, down to the wire, go time. The final test before I become Special Agent Kensi Bly and am admitted to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service's elite Office of Special Project's highest team. No pressure, right?

Ignoring my last thought, I resolutely push open the door and am greeted by the sound of low music and the smell of old cigarettes. It brings back the days when my dad and his Marine buddies would get together after a day at the base and I'd tag along, being more of a son to my dad than a daughter. As I glance around the room, I realize there are more people here than I had thought before. But that's okay. I'm only concerned about one.

I haven t been given a description of the man I am looking for, only a description of what to do inside. I take it that that is one of the parts of my 'test' . As an operative, you won't always know who or what you are looking for and need to be able to react in the slightest of seconds. As I have been briefed, the man I am waiting for is a local player in a prescription drug running ring. He doesn't lead, but he has his hand in deep enough to know who does. My cover is that of a disgruntled doctor looking to get in on the cut. Another operative within the ring has mentioned my name and position, and tonight is a sort of meeting. I think it's a bit weak, but I'm not the one who runs these things, only does what she's told. And what I've been told is that this is a real target, and he may be able to tell I'm not what I say I am. If I blow this, I not only lose my chance, but also lose a lead in a case.

I go to the bar and sit on the stool farthest from the crowd, waiting for the bartender to reach me. When he comes, I order a drink but only for show. No drinking tonight. The bartender looks like he'd be more comfortable on a football field than working behind a bar, but nods to me and goes off to get my drink. When he brings it to me, I make my way over to the jukebox and pretend to seem interested in what's on it, but I m only waiting. It doesn't take long before I am satisfied with the sound of footsteps behind me. This is what I ve been waiting for, that rush of adrenaline as I turn around and face the evil pig that I will hopefully be helping put away. Unfortunately, it takes a moment for me to process that the man before me is in fact a very bad guy, because had I seen him anywhere else, I wouldn't believe it.

"Interesting choice," he notes, leaning against the jukebox and reading the page that had come up. I use the moment to take in his appearance; from the faded blue jeans and the dark black jacket to his short brown hair and bright blue eyes. He looks nothing like what I'd imagine a drug dealer should, but then again, you never know who does what. I feel my heart begin to race and chalk it up to the adrenaline rush, thankfully keeping my face impassive. My voice stays calm and steady when I respond.

"Yes, but true" I say, hating the stupid line as soon as it pops out of my mouth. To my relief the man's mouth turns up slightly and he crosses his arms across his chest.

"I hear you're looking for a buyer," he states casually, taking a sip of the amber colored liquid in his glass. To anyone else, it would seem as if we are just another couple at a bar. Too bad we weren t, as if it wasn t for the fact that he deals in the poisoning of kids on the streets, I may be attracted to him. _Ha, as if you re not already._ _Damn it, stop._

_**He's a good time Cowboy Cassanova, leanin' up against the record machine**_

"Are you alone?" I ask, trying to make my voice as suspicious as possible. After all, my cover is to be shady, so why not begin now?

"Of course", he says quietly, leaning in closer as I get a faint smell of his cologne. "Why? Don t trust me?"

_**Looks like a cool drink of water, but he's candy coated misery**_

"If you were me, would you trust you?" I ask, reminding myself of what this man does for a living before I m tempted to flirt along with him.

_**He's the devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes, and he only comes out at night**_

"So, what have you got that could possibly interest me?" His gaze sweeps over me, and I feel myself getting anxious. I am no stranger to the looks of men and their remarks, but this guy is really messing with my head. If I'm this weak with all our suspects, they'll never trust me to go undercover again.

I steel my resolve as he is looking around the bar, and try to remember my back story. "Vicodin, depression meds, oxycodin, you name it," I reply, hoping I didn t say anything too loud. Anything I do could blow this op, and that's a risk I m not willing to take.

The man turns his gaze back to me and gives me a suspicious smile. "And why are you so willing to be part of my operation?" Ah, the question I've been waiting for.

"I see kids come in all the time with overdoses, while others are getting the cut. I want in." He continues to read my face, looking for the slightest sign of a lie, which I try my best not to give him. "Besides, people get hooked in the hospital all the time, and when they get out they try to find their fix in any way they can. I believe that's where your _business_ comes in." The silence seems to stretch forever as he considers my offer.

"Alright," he concedes, and I feel an immense relief, but keep my face straight. "Just where have you got this?" he questions quietly, casually grabbing my arm and turning me around as a man walks past to go to the bathroom. It's simple and innocent, but the touch sends fire shooting up my arm. _You've been alone too long._

I know enough not to give him any details, and simply state "I have it. I m not willing to bring it out into the open, and I m sure you re not willing to be caught with it."

"My boss will need to know what kind of product he's taking in. I'll need something to take to him," he murmurs, barely audible over the music and the others in the bar.

"Tell me where and when, and then we'll deal." The man once again offers a half smile, which charms me and frustrates me all at the same time. I thought I deadpanned that, and here he is grinning at me.

"You're obviously new at this."

"You want it or not? I can take my business elsewhere," I say forcefully, immediately regretting it and damning my temper. Luckily, he doesn't seem offended by my demands, and instead reaches into his pocket and pulls out a scrap of paper with an address scribbled onto it. He leans in close and for a moment I inwardly panic, thinking that this man that I've just done a drug deal with is about make a move on me. They never taught me how to react to this.

Luckily (or so I tell myself) he stops near my ear, and I try and fight the urge to close my eyes.

**_Gives you feelings that you don t wanna fight_**

"I'll see you soon," he whispers quietly, and then he's gone.

I head to the bar, hoping that my stride is more confident than I feel, and put down my nearly full glass. I leave a tip for the bartender and he wishes me a goodnight. Walking out to the unmarked car that is waiting for me, I hand the slip of paper to the driver, an agent that congratulates me and then takes me home to get rest for tomorrow.

Next morning finds me taking the too slow elevator up to headquarters. Today, I could very well be named the next Special Agent in OSP. I try not to almost scream as that would be unprofessional (I don't need to seem crazy my first day), and instead walk calmly out into the video conference room.

I see Special Agent Macy standing in front of the large screen, talking with Deputy Director Leon Vance back in Washington. Although he is only deputy director, Director Vance seems to be the man in charge here at OSP. I think Director Shepherd has her hands full enough with the NCIS teams over in D.C.

"Agent Bly," Vance says as I walk into sight of the camera. "We were just discussing your performance last night." Not knowing what to say, I instead settle on nothing. I look to Macy for some sign of how the conversation went, but she gives nothing. "You completed your objective and got the intel," Vance continues. "In all regards you achieved your goal. I see no problem in your promotion. Do you, Agent Macy?"

"No sir, I see no problem at all." I wait in agonizing anticipation and half expect to be waken up by the cruel shriek of my alarm. Can this be real? I know that it is as soon as Director Vance speaks again.

"Welcome to the team, Special Agent Bly."

Oh, my, I think I need to sit down or pass out or throw up or something. This is it. I've done it.

"Thank you, sir. I am honored."

Vance nods and then looks up. "I don't believe you've met the team, have you?" he asked, and I shook my head no. "Well then, allow me. Special Agent Sam Hanna, this is the newest member of the team, Agent Bly." I wheel around and see the bartender from last night coming down the stairs. _What is he doing here?_

He walks up to me and shakes my hand as I try and hide my surprise. "Not bad last night. Hello sir," Sam says into the monitor.

"Where's Callen?" Vance questions as I brush off the fact that I'd been played. _Of course they wouldn't send me in alone._ But I can't help but think; _if Agent Hanna was the bartender, then this Callen was..._

"Right here, sir."

I look up at the too familiar voice and am greeted by the very man I'd been meeting last night.

"Special Agent G. Callen, meet Special Agent Kensi Bly."

I knew it in the back of my mind, yet it still shocks me to see the so called drug dealer again. I'd assured myself that my reaction to him last night must have been nervousness about my first op, but the shiver that runs down my spine as he looks at me says otherwise. Somehow, Callen must be reading my thoughts, as he has a cocky grin and his blue eyes are gleaming. "Told you I d see you soon."

_**Oh, you better run for your life**_

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**Okay, one more thing. If I missed any ' or commas, my bad. My computer always erases them when i post doc's. Stupid technology. Anyway, thanks for reading and review if you like. -moviefanatic17**


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